


Copyrighting and Other Fun Law Abiding Practices

by RedRosella



Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Comedy, Cultiplier, Gen, Harold B. Darrensworth is innocent and you can quote me on that, Kickcult
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 16:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15799983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRosella/pseuds/RedRosella
Summary: Also known as COFLAP.Harold B. Darrensworth, new ego and professional law abider, was not having a good first day of existence.





	Copyrighting and Other Fun Law Abiding Practices

**Author's Note:**

> Writer's block has been kicking my ass for the past two months, but hand it to Markiplier and his kickcult to kick my ass back into gear!  
> Enjoy some Harold B. Darrensworth shenanigans!

“Does this place even follow the law? There are health code violations all over the place! Look over here! This is clearly a fire hazard! And these doors open in! Who is in charge of this place?”

A man in a green shirt with extremely round glasses and a thick slur was storming down the halls of Ego HQ. There wasn’t anyone with him, so it appeared he was just ranting to himself about ‘laws’ this and ‘books’ that. 

Coming across that scene wasn’t what Dark expected when he got up that morning, but to be perfectly honest, he should have expected it. He went to sleep stupidly thinking that the kickcult and conga stuff was just Mark making one post and then being done with it, but no. He just had to go and create a whole new ego just to fuel this stupid new cult of his, and of course the community lapped it up like they were dying of thirst.

“Oh dear god there’s another one,” Dark mumbled under his breath, alerting the new ego to his presence. His head snapped up, and he was immediately storming over to Dark, happy to finally have someone to set his rantings onto.

“You! Is this place tax exempt? Have you been properly filing your taxes?” 

“We don’t make any money, there is nothing to tax,” Dark said blandly.

The man narrowed his eyes. “Then how do you expect to pay for all the renovations this place clearly needs! ...And what exactly is this place? And who are you?”

“This is Ego HQ, home of the egos created by Mark Fischbach, and I am Darkiplier.”

The new ego scowled at Mark’s name. “Do you work for that lawbreaker? Because I will not be associated with you if you think that his actions are justified, or my name’s not Harold B. Darrensworth!” Dark raised an eyebrow at the name, but left it at that. There were plenty weirder names that Mark had come up with over the years.

“No. The exact opposite, actually. We’re looking to take over Mark’s channel and get revenge on him for what he has done to us. I assume you also want revenge on him for… something.” He couldn’t care less, but it was better to just play to this ego’s base desires and get him on his side so he could use him later.

“Of course! He is breaking the law, and justice needs to be served. I’ve already shut down his Discord server, but I think there’s a resistance brewing.” All of a sudden, Dark was a lot more interested in one Harold B. Darrensworth. “You did?”

“Of course! Them and their stupid masks with their cursed faces,” Harold grumbled.

Dark cringed at the mention of the new mask. On it’s own a new mask was bad enough, but since it was modeled after that… disaster of a video, it was absolutely disgraceful. 

“Alright, well, thank you for informing me of this… Harold. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other around here. I’m going to need to look into this, but I’ll get Wilford to show you around for now. Wilford!” Dark called. Immediately, the obnoxiously pink ego popped up out of thin air.

The law abiding ego’s eyes widened. “Magic! That’s illegal!” Dark rolled his eyes and teleported out of the room, making sure that Harold didn’t see him as he did it.

“Oh! You’re new! Hello, I’m Wilford Warfstache.” Wilford smiled suavely, twirling his mustache a little.

The man narrowed his eyes at Wilford. “I’m Harold B. Darrensworth.”

“What’s the B stand for?”

“Benis.”

Wilford chuckled. “Aw, that’s a good one, friend. What does it actually stand for?”

Harold glared. “That _ is _ what it stands for.”

“...Oh. Well that’s unfortunate.”

“I hardly see how my name can be unfortunate. Harold Benis Darrensworth is a fine name passed down by my family throughout the ages.”

“Right, right,” Wilford dismissed. “Well, it’s been so long since we’ve had a new ego around here! Lemme give you a tour of this joint! Everyone’s probably in the longer right now since it’s almost lunchtime, so I’ll introduce you to everyone there first.” 

Wilford grabbed Harold’s hand, walking forward and teleporting them to the living room after just a few steps. It tripped Harold up, causing him to stumble into the room ungracefully.

“Witchcraft,” he mumbled.

“Hey, everyone! There’s a new ego! Harry B. Darrensmith, or something,” Wilford yelled, drawing the attention of every single ego in the room. Harold didn’t know how many egos he expected, but it was definitely not this many. There were nine in total just in the one room.

“My name is Harold B. Darrensworth and if you mispronounce it again I will sue you for emotional distress,” Harold cut Wilford off before he could say anything more and cause even more damage to Harold’s fragile self worth by introducing him incorrectly.

“You’re so funny, Henry.” Wilford clapped him on the back.

“Harold.” 

A quick cursory glance of the room showed two robots, a school girl, a blind man, a man in a suit, a doctor, a man with peanut butter all over his face, two reporters, all with their eyes trained on him. He glared at all of them, daring them to mispronounce his name. Except not really, because that would be illegal.

“Jim! Let’s interview the new ego, Jim!” One of the reporters called out.

“Hey! No filming me! I haven’t signed any papers, so that’s illegal! I will report you to the police!” Harold yelled, covering his face despite the fact that there was no camera around yet.

“We’ll just blur your face out, then. We’re professionals!” The other Jim said.

“That still violates my voice copyright!”

Jim looked to Jim, puzzled. They seemed to communicate without words, causing Harold to narrow his eyes again, another shout of ‘witchcraft’ curling around his lips before he was cut off.

“Uh… Can with print your answers?”

“No! My words are mine! Any unauthorized use of them is tantamount to identity theft!”

Both Jims sat back down awkwardly, not quite sure what to do. No one had ever denied to being filmed before, but they weren’t about to risk this new ego suing them for all their money (one dollar and thirty cents). 

But then what could they do if they weren’t allowed to do what they were created for?

“So what is your purpose? Why did Mark create you?” Google asked, diverting everyone’s attention away from the now floundering Jims and their existential crisis. 

“I am Harold B. Darrensworth from the Organization Watching Over Suspicious Entertainers Notoriously Pushing Alternative Ideals.”

The room was silent for a few seconds. “...You realize that spells OWOSENPAI, right?” Yandereplier pointed out.

“Yes, and? What does it matter what random assortment of letters my organization goes by? What matters is that we are enforcing the law!”

“What does that have to do with Mark, brah?” Bing asked.

Harold’s face went dark. “That man is a menace. He started the Kickcult- which is not a tax exempt organization!- but he doesn’t pay taxes! Him and his conga cult are breaking the law! They’re also smuggling eggs!”

At the mention of Kickcult, all the egos flinched back.

Suddenly, another ego slid out of the shadows, seemingly slithering into existence. “Did someone say cult?” His gigantic smile was threatening to split his face wide open.

Harold jumped back, clutching a law book he produced out of nowhere. This time he actually did get to release his cry of ‘witchcraft’.

“Mask, now is not the time,” Wilford scolded.

“Aw, but we were just starting to have fun. Isn’t this fun, haha?”

“Fun needs to be within accordance with standard rules and regulations! This is clearly not the appropriate kind of fun!” Harold yelled, waving around his law book but keeping a steady hold on it. When he was done ranting, he brought it back to his chest reverently.

Mask smiled. “I’m just spreading positivity. Happiness isn’t against the law, is it?”

“Alright, Mask, that’s enough,” Wilford said a bit more forcefully. He looked out of the corner of his eye towards Harold, who seemed to be shaking with rage. “Let’s not make the new ego feel unwelcome.”

“Well he’s making me feel a bit unwelcome with his cult hate. Not all cults are bad, Harry.”

“Do not call me that! I’m going to report you to the Organization Watching Over Suspicious Entertainers Notoriously Pushing Alternative Ideals and suing you for harassment! You won’t get away with this!”

“You can’t sue an ego, Harry. We’re not real people. Not everything can be solved by your little law book. Just learn to have some fun every once in a while, haha.”

“That’s enough.” Dark stepped into the room, drawing all light out of the area and all attention on him. “Maskiplier. Leave.”

“Fine. But let it be known that kickcult isn’t over just because you shut down the server. There’s a resistance brewing, and none of the fans will stand for you taking away their conga. How does it feel being the most hated ego, Harry?” With that, Mask was gone.

The entire room was silent, no one quite sure how to respond to what had just gone down.  The cult was a sore enough subject to all of them already, and Mask was an unsettling presence on the best of days, but to see him openly antagonizing someone and that same someone fighting back against him was baffling.

“This is who you let into your headquarters?” Harold yelled at Dark, having none of the qualms the others had about keeping silent. “Lawbreakers? Creepy cultists? What else do you have here? Cannibals?” Bim shuffled closer to the door.

“Calm down, Harold. I will talk to Mask. It is unfortunate, but every ego Mark creates has to reside here, no matter who they are or what they have done. Since you are living here now, you will have to get used to it,” Dark said sternly, injecting just a bit of fake kindness into his words in the hope that Harold would calm down. He couldn’t risk getting on his bad side yet, not when the lawful ego seemed to have a considerable amount of power. Plus, if he was willing to stand up to Mask, that was even more useful. The cultish ego was a major hurdle for all of them, and getting rid of him would be a godsend.

Harold grumbled, stomping out of the room to somewhere. He didn’t know the layout of this place yet, but he wasn’t about to stay in that room.

His first day of existence, and this is what he gets? He ought to sue everyone in the building, and then lock them all up just to be extra sure that their law breaking wouldn’t continue!

First, though, he needed to stop this Mask character. He was the one behind this, along with Mark. Harold was so blind. Of course Kickcult wasn’t a one man job. It was too cunning for just one person to have conceived of and built!

His mind floated back to the last question Mask asked him. How did it feel to be the most hated ego? 

Harold didn’t know. Harold didn’t care. Even if he was hated, he was just doing his job. He was protecting everyone by enforcing the law. If no one followed the law, then society would crumble. Everything would be in ruins. 

He wouldn’t care even if everyone hated him. He knew he was doing what was right.

Harold B. Darrensworth wasn’t going to stop until he had torn down every last piece of the cult, and stomped on it’s grave. Except not, because disrupting a burial site was illegal. But you get his point.


End file.
